Further Confessions of Georgia Nicolson
by marziipan
Summary: After book 8. Gee & Dave the Laugh shared an accidental snog at camp, but things will just go back to normal, right? WRONG. Masimo is still in Italy and Dave has some big news for Georgia, & she is not pleased. Reviews & concrit greatly appreciated!
1. Tarts and Flamingos

**12:30 a.m.**

Why, why, _why _must my life be so full of confusosity?

**12:32 a.m.**

Because life is a tragnosity, that is why.

**12:45 a.m.**

Blimey, Rosie snores like Vati. She is sleeping quite soundly, I must say, for someone who has just been told about my red-bottomed adventures. Some mate. And I thought Jas was bad, rambling about badgers and voles. On a camping trip, no less.

People are so self absorbed.

**Ten minutes later**

I will never sleep. My brain is buzzing with Sex Gods and Lurve Gods and, er, Laughs.

This is my life:

I have dumped a Sex God

I have bagged a Lurve God

I have again shown my red bottom to Dave the Laugh (who is, incidentally, not a Lurve or Sex God)

**1:00 a.m.**

Even though he gives me a touch of the jelloid knickers. Shutupshutupshutup, brain!

**One minute later**

What does Dave the Laugh mean though? What does he mean, "And that is why I love you?" Is that boy-code for something? Like "s'later"?

**Five minutes later**

I don't know why I bother with trying to figure boys out. Particularly Dave. He is a bit on the mad side.

**1:15 a.m.**

After he snogged me I said, "Hnnnnnngh." And he just looked at me and had that sort of glint of naughtinosity in his eyes.

What was I doing? My heart belongs to a Luurve God and I am, of course, a one-man woman with dignosity.

I was going to say that to him. I was going to say, "Look, Dave, I am sorry that I am irresistible, but I am a Lurve God's one and only. But I only got to "Look, Da," and then he snogged me again!!! And then he let go of me and said, "Georgia, you appalling tart," and walked off!!!

Me??? ME, an appalling tart? I was going to say that to him. I was going to gather my pridenosity and forage my whatsits and say, "It is you, Dave, not I, who is a red-bottomed minx." But he'd already gone.

I went back near the camp and Dave was acting like nothing had happened. Not in an _ignorez-vous_ing me way, but in a casualosity at all times way.

**1:30 a.m.**

It sort of gave me the Horn.

Shutupshutupshutup, brain!

**Two minutes later**

When we had to get back (thanks to Jas and Ellen, the Ditherspaz Twins) I told Rosie and Jools all about Dave the Laugh. As I am such a good mate.

Well, actually I wasn't going to tell them about Dave the Laugh, but Rosie said, "Hang on, let me get my beard so I may advise you."

I said to her, "Advise me on what?"

"Your Dave the Laugh dilemma."

"I haven't got a Dave the Laugh dilemma."

And I thought I'd won, but then she said, "Georgia, the whole camp saw you splashing around and snogging like a loon."

I looked at Jools. She just nodded.

Oh, blimey. Is there no privacy in this world?

**One minute later**

I told Rosie and Jools about the falling in the lake and snogging fandango, and about how Dave had said, "Are we never to be free, Kittykat?"

Jools said, "Phwaor. AND he said he loved you? Ellen will be pleased."

"It was in a mate-type way," I said to her.

Right.

Rosie stroked her beard knowingly and said, "When will you tell him then?"

I asked her, "Tell him what?"

Pants, this was getting a bit annoying.

And Rosie said, "Tell him that you fancy him rotten."

"I don't, RoRo, I fancy the Lurve God."

Honestly, why can't people keep up? I went on, "Dave is just a mate."

"That loves you and snogs you all the time."

Good point. Well made.

I said, "It is his hormones, he can't help it. Anyway, he is with Emma. Er, not that it bothers me, as Dave really is just a mate and a good laugh."

"And really sort of good looking," Jools added.

"Some people might say that," I said. I was going for casual with just a touch of glaciosity.

But Rosie was being quite pushy and nosy and spreading her beardy wisdom about. "Er, YOU might say that, Gee."

"Yes, alright, but I really like Masimo and Dave is just a really good mate. Goodnight."

I rolled over with my back to them (I was in the middle actually, so I sort of had to just keep my head down to avoid Jools).

"Masimo is quite good looking but do you really, you know, get on with him and like him for more than his handbag?" Jools asked.

I was just lying there pretending to sleep.

"Georgia?"

Yes, I would just have to ignore this nonsense and talk to them in the morning when they were sane. Honestly, who could not fancy the Lurve God?

"Georgia, you were chatting with us literally one minute ago, we know you're awake."

Oh God. I would have to bite the whatsit. "Yes, of course I fancy Masimo."

Oh, Masimo, if you were here I would be free of prying mates and Tarty Hormeisters. That is why I love you. But not in a mate-type way. The good way. Whatever that is. It is as Elizabeth Whatsit Browning said. How to I love thee, Masimo? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the breadth and dept and PANTS my soul can reach.

Rosie said, "Yes, but he is not your flamingo."

Jools and I both looked at her. Was she mad?

She just nodded wisely. I asked her what in the name of trousers she was going on about.

"You know, I also think Masimo, and Robbie also, are quite good looking, but I fancy Sven because we have, you know, a LAUGH together. I like snogging him, but also having matey sort of moments like when we do Special Edition Tickly Bears."

She was mad.

She noticed us sort of gaping at her like she was mad (she was) and explained. "That's when you drink lots of water for a really long time and then play tickly bears and whoever can't hold it in anymore loses."

Jools was amazed. "So you force each other to wet your knickers???"

"Not all the way, you know just a bit when you can't hold it and then you surrender and you both have a proper wazz. And a change of knickers if you need."

Oh, right, of course. Quite ordinary then. Not.

"What's that got to do with flamingos, Ro?"

"Oh, well when you've found a really good mate that you also like to snog and that you get on with in your way, that is your flamingo, as flamingos mate for life."

Jools said to her, "Do you mean penguins?"

"Possibly."

And then we all laughed like loons. I don't know why.

**1:45 a.m.**

I wonder if Emma is Dave's flamingo?


	2. A Matey Sort of Way

**Monday, August 1****st**

**Stalag 14**

Back in Hell. I do not know whether I am bothered or pleased that Ellen has the hump with me. I said to her earlier, "How was it with Dec last night?" (as he took her out when the camping fandango had, fortunately, ended). She just shrugged at me. She is not even good at giving the cold shoulder.

And she luuuuuuurves Dave the Laugh.

Rosie has been acting like a loon. Each time she'd see me, she'd stop walking or doing whatever she was doing to stand on one leg. Just looking at me. On one leg.

It took me ages to work out what she was doing. As we trouped back in from break she did it on a bit of grass and really reminded me of a flamingo. And that's what she'd been trying to do.

I don't think working it out changed my opinion. She is very nearly criminally insane.

**Tarts' Wardrobe**

**2:00 p.m.**

I was just darting into the loo to check a lurking lurker round my chin and decided I might as well have a quick wazz. And Wet Lindsay came stick-insecting in with the ever-dim Monica.

"So have you talked to Masimo since he's been away?" said ADM.

"Oh, no, not yet though he promised he'd give me a call. God, he is so gorgeous. It really is nice to have Robbie back though, he and I have gotten quite close of course."

Ugh. Old octopus knickers is back at it.

I wonder if Robbie fancies her?

Ha! I am such a laugh.

**At Hell's gate**

**4:25**

I was just updating Jas vis-à-vis the Dave the L scenario when the Devil Himself appeared. And by appeared, I mean crept up behind me, lifted me from round my thighs, trod on a rock, and went off-balance. Into a hedge. Honestly.

**4:27**

Dave is laughing like a loon, as is most of the population of the planet, and I am quite covered in twigs and those annoying bits of green that are sticky and too small to grab hold of. Brilliant. I said to Dave from in the bush, "Are you mad?"

But he didn't even say, "No, are YOU mad?" as he was laughing too hard watching me clamber out of the hedge. My head was going to drop off from redness.

**4:30**

I'm not sure that Dave will ever stop laughing. He has even got Ellen laughing, just from him laughing. She really has got no pridenosity.

**4:35**

I said to Jas, "It could have been worse. No Wet Lindsay around."

And she said, "No, but the whole street saw your knickers."

Honestly.

**4:45**

Dropped Jas at her gate. Dave has linked arms with me and is walking along telling me about how his mates binned him as though he's been awarded a medal of honor. He is acting like nothing has happened, which is fine by me. I would rather not be reminded of my red-bottomosity. Or his.

**One minute later**

Even though he is looking yummy scrumboes. Shutupshutupshutup!

**Two minutes later**

We got to the point where we would usually go our own ways when Dave stopped me. He said, "Wait a moment, Kittykat. I need to talk to you."

Oh no. Was he going to try to snog me? I would just have to stop him.

This was all well and good but then he turned to face me and my lips started their puckering business. It really is a shame that they cannot even keep themselves in line. Especially when they have got rather a dreamy Lurve God to snog.

**Five minutes later**

I asked Dave what he needed to talk to me about and he looked as though he was going to say something, but then just said we ought to go to the park. It was the same park we snogged in when I used him as my red herring to recapture the Sex God. What was he doing? Was this his idea of romantic?

**In the park on the swings**

**5:00 p.m.**

It is not easy to look attractive on swings, as you are either forced to actually swing like a mank or sit there with your arms all useless and flopping to the side. It is a good job I am with Dave, as he acts like a loon most times anyway.

**5:01**

Imagine if I were with the Lurve God though?

**Two minutes later**

Dave is acting really strangely. He said from his swing, "I don't spend enough time at the park."

Er. Right. Sure.

**Two minutes later**

Dave has challenged me to a swing-off. I am not entirely sure what that is, but it seemed appropriate. So now I am swinging really really high with my skirt sort of wedged between my legs so that it doesn't fly up. Dave noticed and said, "Don't worry, Gee, the whole town has seen your knickers anyway."

I said, "I am not Wet Lindsay, I don't like to bare my knickers to the world."

"Weren't you looking through her bedroom window?"

"Yes, but she was making it easy. She is not very good at being conspicuous about her thongs."

"Should she be?"

"Yes, as she is a mollusk."

I don't know what I was going on about, but Dave laughed. Quite hard actually.

**On a bench**

**5:30 p.m.**

Dave has brought me to the park to "talk" about something, but instead we have done swing-offs, stone skipping, and a touch of Number Five.

Even though I knew I shouldn't, I reminded Dave why we were here.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked, as though I didn't know. I wondered if I could do one of those sort of hypnosis thingies where people lose their train of thought and you just talk to them about nut harvesting or something. I did not want to talk about our lakeside snogfest.

Especially if he was going to snog me again.

Dave said, "Ah, you aren't to be distracted, are you Sex Kitty?"

What? Why did he want to distract me? He was the one who brought me here to talk, wasn't he? I just looked at him.

Dave was looking really serious when he said, "Right, well…I…well, I suppose I'll just say it."

Ohmygiddygod!!! He was going to tell me he loved me again! I would have to try some diversionary tactics. What could I do though? Dance? Show him my nungas?

No, I would just have to tell him that I was madly in love with an Italian Stallion and that no profession of love or lip nibbling (however lovely) would sway me.

He took a really deep breath. "I'm leaving, Gee."

I said to him, "Look, Dave, I really—er, what?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at the ground sadly. I hadn't seen Dave the Laugh being Dave the unLaugh very many times, but I really, really hated it. It made me feel sort of funny and all protective. Even though one of the times he was like this it was my fault. For using him as my decoy duck.

I asked him what he meant by "leaving."

Blimey, I shouldn't have asked.

**In my bed of pain**

Why, baby Jesus? Does the tragnosity of life never end?

**7:30 p.m.**

Mum came into my bedroom and sat on my bed. She asked me what was wrong. I told her nothing and also noted how nosy everyone in this house is.

"Georgia, you are wailing like a banshee, the whole neighborhood can hear you."

Good point. Well made.

**7:35**

I have managed to send mum away by promising I would talk about it with her when I was "ready." As if. She has probably forgotten already. If I talk to her about it later she will probably say, "Talk about what, dear?" and comment on how good her new over-the-shoulder boulder-holder makes her basoomas look.

Such is the tragnosity of my life.

**One minute later**

My"life," more like.

**Two minutes later**

The nub and gist of it is that Dave's mum has gotten a really good job and is moving away to take it. Which is all well and good, except she seems to think she must take Dave as well. To Germany.

Dave told me, "It's in Germany."

I just looked at him for a moment and then I said, "You're winding me up." I was quite positive he was, actually.

He said to me, "No, I'm not. Wish I was though."

I laughed (in a really attractive way, I like to think) and said to him, "I am not laughing WITH you because your joke is funny. I am laughing AT you because it was a terrible one."

But he just looked at me really sadly. And there were tears in his eyes!!!

Was he trying to kill me???

"I'm not joking, Gee. I'm really going," he said. He shrugged his shoulders in a horrible, defeated sort of way. "It's awful, I know."

I sort of already knew he was serious but I panicked. Or was in denial. Or something. "It's not funny, Pantsmaster. There are other ways to get out of Horn Advising duties, you don't have to pretend to leave the country."

Dave looked me right in the eyes and just said, "Georgia."

We just sat looking at each other for what seemed like a really long time.

My voice was shaking really badly when I said, "Dave…if you are joking you'd better tell me right now or I will be really angry with you."

He just shook his head miserably. Lord's pajamas, I was going to blub.

I tried to say something to him, but instead big fat tears started leaking out of my eyes. Dave leaned over and wrapped his arms really tightly around me.

He told me in a really low sort of broken voice, "I'll write, won't I, pet?"

I nodded into his shoulder, quite certain that I'd left a lot of mascara on his shirt. Serves him right.

"And you'll visit," he added.

"Oh yes, Butti and Vati will give be a really cheerful seddoff as well, waving happily as I board by plande that they also happily paid for." Blimey, I sounded like a mucousy loon.

Dave just chuckled and pulled back to look me in the eyes. He took my face in his hands and gave me a really soft, gentle, lovely kiss on the lips. I was really embarrassed because there were tears on them still. But he licked his lips. And smirked.

Even in that time of great sadnosity, it really gave me the horn.

**7:45**

I am so heartbroken I don't even care that I blubbered all over Dave. Dripping and snorting away happily. Well, not happily. More like miserably.

He was holding me really tightly and stroking my hair when he said to me, "Don't worry, Kittykat. You'll have the Italian Stallion to look after you." He sounded funny when he said it, sort of strained.

And then I even surprised the knickers off myself when I replied. I was, of course, going a bit mad and was a bit wired from heartbreak. But still, I couldn't believe it.

It is unbelievable, that's why.

I said into his chest, "I don't care about the stupid Italian Stallion."

I actually said that!!! Dave was quite as surprised, as he said something like "Oh, now that is a lie."

And then I did it again!!! I told him all glumly, sort of mumbling and stuffed up from crying, "Not compared to you I don't."

Was I mad?

Perhaps I should have explained that I meant it in a matey sort of way.

**8:00 p.m.**

When I told Dave I didn't care about the Lurve God compared to him, his face went all intense with just a hint of naughtinosity. That was a new one. It gave me the ol' jelloid knees.

**8:05 p.m.**

In a matey sort of way.

**8:08 p.m.**

Dave said to me, "What in the name of arse are you trying to do to me, Kittykat?" And then he snogged me. Again. It was quite nice actually, even though I am heartbroken.

**One minute later**

And even though he is only my mate.


	3. Dave the Who?

**It seems that term has ended. So ignore the school day in the prev. chapter. Hahaha. Moving on...**

**Tuesday**

**8:00 a.m.**

At Bonkers' Headquarters. Mutti and Vatti are being quite selfish of course, dressing Libby and sorting out breakfast and preparing for work. As if my life has not ended.

Mutti said to me on the way out, "Oh, Gee, I forgot to tell you last night, Masimo called around five."

"What??? You're telling me now???"

"Well I was distracted, wasn't I, caring for my darling daughter?" She said it really sarcastically. How vair vair annoying.

**In my bedroom**

**9 a.m.**

Do normal people phone their really dreamy boyfriends at nine o'clock (ten o'clock in Pizza-a-go-go Land)?

I would just have to tone, cleanse, and moisturize first. And perhaps a touch of lippy. And check for any signs of the orangutan gene.

**Two minutes later**

I am hideous. My eyes are all pink and puffy from blubbing. Well, that is what happens when you're forced to spend your life with a broken heart.

Thank you, mate who I refuse to name that really is just a mate that just happens to be really good at nip libbling and snogging in general and that is leaving forever. Thank you for my tears of sadnosity.

**9:15 a.m.**

What if Masimo can sense my red bottom through the phone? What if I accidentally tell him about my accidental snogging incident(s)??? I would just have to concentrate really really hard on not doing it, to avoid one of those whatsits, Freudian lips.

**One minute later**

Freudian lips!!!!!????? Good God.

**10 a.m.**

What if Masimo knows that I said I didn't care about the Stupid Italian Stallion? What if he can sense my treachery?

**One minute later**

I would just have to explain that my brain had been on a bit of a holiday.

Which it had been.

As I am, in fact, madly in LURVE with him.

**Five minutes later**

Especially in comparison to D the L.

**10:30 a.m.**

Jas rang in the middle of my very important beauty regime. Typico.

She rang and said, "Well?"

And I do not mean that she rang and we were chatting and she asked me a sensible question and then said "Well?" No, that is not how Jazzy Spazzy works. I mean she just rang and said, "Well?" first thing.

Honestly.

I asked old swotty knickers "well what?" and she got all huffy.

"Tom's just told me about Dave the Laugh."

I said to her, "Who?" but she did not think it was funny.

Even though it was.

Jas said, "That is why he dragged you off yesterday, isn't it? To tell you? Tom told me he hasn't even told Emma yet, imagine? I imagine you're the first one he told which I actually think is a bit mad as I would have waited to tell my proper friends first."

"Jas."

"What?"

"Shut up."

There was a really long silence.

"Aren't you all upset?" she asked me in what I think she imagined to be a really sweet, caring way. Which it wasn't.

"No, I have got Masimo."

Jas got all huffy again and went into ditherspaz mode. "You really are horrible, Georgia. I just meant, you know. You and Dave are sort of, all really close and things. Anyway, Masimo is in Italy and Dave is your really good mate, isn't he?"

What is the matter with people lately? Haven't they got their own boys and troubles and excessively large knickers to worry about?

**Fifteen minutes later**

Jas has told me that Tom and his mates are going to put together a going away do for Dave. Jas said, "And it is a surprise, so mind you don't ruin it."

Oh, sure, Radio Jas. She'll probably be broadcasting it hourly.

**Two minutes later**

What fresh hell??? Jas told me that Tom was thinking of arranging it for next week, perhaps Wednesday or Thursday.

I said to Jas, "Wouldn't they rather do it the night before he goes so it is more exciting and sort of tragic?"

And then Jas said, "They are. He's going on Friday the twelfth."

**11 a.m.**

What is even the point of life?

**11:11 a.m**

Dave the Laugh is leaving next Friday, which, for the very dim who have not noticed, is in ten days.

**Two minutes later**

I wonder why he has not told Emma yet? He is probably telling her now. And snogging her. And she is probably really really devastated and crying. But in a really snivelly, unattractive sort of way. I wonder if she will come to his leaving do? She will probably be too heartbroken.

**One minute later**

Sven has invited Tom to do it at Rosie's house, which I think is tres tres amusant, as Rosie has not as of yet been informed.

**Midday**

**Calling the Lurve God**

A woman answered and said really loudly, "Pronto, chi parla?"

Er.

I said all nervously into the phone, "Er, ciao this is, erm, Georgia, is…is Masimo…?"

But she'd already called to Masimo in Pizza-a-go-go talk.

When he came to the phone he sounded quite breathless and really really gorgeous. I went a bit jelloid in the knicker department.

"Georgia, carissima, I am so pleased for you to call me."

"Yes, well, I am pleased to…do it."

He seemed not to notice that I was not only a spaz but also bonkers. He laughed. It was lovely.

"Mi dispiace—I am sorry—I can not talk with you for too much long. My family and I will be going out. But we must talk, Georgia, when will you come to see me in Italy?"

"Oh, that, well, I haven't exactly gotten round to asking Mutti and Vati—er, my parents—about it. Well, actually I sort of have but not properly and Mutti is being a bit difficult."

"Eh…Motti?"

**12:30 p.m.**

Masimo has told me all about how wonderful it is to be back in Italy. No mention of calling Wet Lindsay. Although I did come very near to exposing my huge red bottom to him.

As he was talking I was focusing really hard on casualosty and being the picture of cool bananas. I was thinking, _don't mention Dave the Laugh, don't mention Dave the Laugh, don't mention Dave the Laugh_, when he asked "And how about you, caro, how is things for you?"

And I said, "My mate Dave is going off to Lederhosen Land."

Honestly.

**12:30 a.m**

**In bed with Gordy, Bibbs, and Our Lord Sandra**

The phone rang immediately after I put the phone down with Masimo. It was Dave. Crikey. He said to me, "Blimey, you've been engaged for hours."

Which was a bit on the uncool and sad desperado side, if you ask me.

I said to him, "I was chatting to Masimo."

That will show him.

But he was cool as anything. He said to me, "Well, listen. I just rang to say that I know you get a bit weird about things. But you shouldn't worry, as we are mates and sometimes people get the horn and what is a mate if it is not someone you can have a good snog with?"

He had a good point, really.

Then he said, "I am leaving really soon so let's you and I put the pants behind us and have a bit of fun together."

I really love Dave the Laugh.

As a mate, obviously.

**Two minutes later**

I am not sure who is worse in the ungodly snoring department—RoRo, Vati, or LIBBY.

**One minute later**

Certainly Libby.

**12:35 a.m.**

What does Dave mean, a bit of fun?

Return to Top


	4. Divs and the Family Mad

**Friday, August 5****th**

**Midday**

What an amazing (not) week. I have spent loads of time hanging round my really cool mates (Libby, Angus, and Gordon—need I say more? I think not), and chatting with my roommates (Mutti and Vati).

Thank you baby Jesus. One step away from Halos-a-go-go Land, this.

Still, at least I am not at Stalag 14.

And I am, it must be said, the girlfriend of a Luuurve God.

**4 p.m.**

Having a bit of an early tea. Ace Gang meeting at the clock tower vair soon. Also, there are parental units that need avoiding. Vati paid a visit to Strop Central yesterday, as he saw me using his razor. Again.

Honestly, there is no privacy round here.

Or sanity.

I was just rather innocently tending to the orangutan gene lurking underneath my arm, and Vati came storming in all beardy and portly. His face went quite purple and he started stammering at me with an air of definite madnosity.

I said to Dad, "Oi, a bit of privacy, mate," and he started the usual nonsense about rudeness and respect for elders and other people's, er, toiletries.

Rave on, Old Eggy One.

When I closed the door in his face, he chucked something at it. I think it was Gordy, but I can't be sure. I said through the door, "Avoid the violence, Dad, I want to be healthy when I go to Italy."

He just laughed, and I don't mean in a charming, normal sort of way. More on the mad, "the bloody hell you're going to Italy" side.

Which I do not care for. Who would?

**4:30 p.m.**

I will just do a very quick beauty regime and leave a little note (as I am actually a prisoner) and set off before any of the Mad Family get in. Especially as Vati might throw something at me again. Which poses the danger of some unsightly bruise or blemish. Meaning I will meet my mates at the clock tower tonight, however NOT meet them at the Stiff Dylans gig tomorrow. You see what I mean.

**Clock Tower**

**5:15 p.m.**

Rosie has got on a bra with those whatsits, sparkly, tiny little plastic sort of discs sewn in. Which might actually come very near normal, except it is OVER her shirt.

Jas is doing flicky fringe, flicky fringe nonsense, ie, being vair vair annoying.

Jools is applying lippy (again), and Ellen is shuffling around.

In other words, everything is in order.

Rosie said to all of us, "Go on then, feel the sequined majesty. You know you want to."

We all said, "Erlack!"

We did though. Except Jas, who said, "Lezzies."

Honestly, she is so immature. She definitely lacks that _joie de whatsit _as she is too busy being all huffy knickers and "reasonable."

**5:50 p.m.**

Jools said, "So Georgia, what is the deal with the Italian Stallion? Are you going to Italy?"

Why does everyone seem to be under the impression that I have got normal, loving parents that have got their daughter's happiness and best interests at heart?

"I will have to work on them a bit more."

"Has Masimo, you know, er, talked, I mean called…you?" No need to tell you who that astounding question came from.

I answered, "Yes, and he sounded tres, tres, dreamy. He really is double cool with knobs on and he has got such a lovely accent. Even if he can't understand half of what I say. And the snogging is quite worth it. His kisses sort of linger."

Everyone just looked at me. Jas said, "Er…linger?"

But before I could explain, Jools said, "No, I sort of know what you mean. One time Rollo gave me a really brilliant snog and my lips sort of still thought he was snogging me hours later."

Oh, Masimo, Masimo, where art thou?

**9:15 p.m.**

Excellent Ace Gang meeting tonight. We have gone over some plans for Rosie's "wedding," including rehearsal of the Viking bison disco inferno (which will, of course, be her first dance with Sven).

Also, we have made arrangements for the Stiff Dylans gig. Eight o'clock meeting at the clock tower, and then Rosie's Mutti will be "giving us a lift home." That is to say, we will tell our parents that.

I know what you are thinking. And you are right. The Ditherspaz Twins would never agree to such a flawless plan without a (pathetico) fight, would they? "No, obviously, as they are called the DITHERSPAZ twins" is the answer you are looking for.

Jas said, "Why can't Rosie's mum ACTUALLY give us a lift."

And Rosie, quite rightfully, said, "Because, Jas, that would be naff."

And Ellen joined in, "Well, don't you think we…er, I mean to say, if we are going…wouldn't…can't we…?"

I looked at Jas all smiling. But she knew I meant it in a _you see what you have got on your side? _way.

And she looked at me in a _shut up, tarty knickers_ way

And I said, "Div," except it was accidentally out loud. Everyone looked at me.

And now Ellen thinks I have called her a div. Which, I must say, would not have been far off the mark.

Still, I have been trying to get on her good side since the accidental snogging incident with my mate who's name I shall not mention.

**9:20 p.m.**

Although I will say that there was no mention of Dave the Laugh tonight. Thankfully.

**Two minutes later**

Well, actually, we did mention his going-away party. It is really weird. I don't mean that his party is weird, I mean that he is leaving. For good.

Actually, his party seems quite nice. It makes me feel a bit like crying. It is going to be at Rosie's house, as she is one of the few lucky ones who's got parents with any hint of coolnosity. The Stiff Dylans (the Robbie version, of course) are going to do a short set for him and it seems that loads of people have already said they are coming.

Dave the Laugh has got a lot of mates. It is really a wonder that he is mates with me at all, as he is already so popular and I used him as a red herring to make SG jealous.

**9:30 pm**

Blimey, time is really getting on. I must get optimum beauty rest for the Stiff Dylans gig tomorrow (which is not actually a Stiff Dylans gig as the lead singer, ie the heart and (groovy) soul will be missing).

Still, at least Robbie will be singing.

**Three minutes later**

I think I am going through snogging withdrawal. How long has it been since Masimo's gone? I have almost forgotten the color of his eyes.

**One minute later**

I will have to find Angus.

**9:45 p.m.**

It is not the same looking into Angus's eyes. Masimo has a really warm, kind glint in his eyes, whereas Angus has a definite glint of bonkerosity.

**9:47 p.m.**

Incidentally, lovely glints of kindness are better than glints of naughtinosity, as anyone would agree. Much more preferable, especially to someone like _moi_.

**10:00 p.m.**

Then why does it give me the Horn?

**Saturday **

**1:00 p.m.**

It is only one and already I have had my bath (more endless raving from Vati), cleansed, toned, moisturized, and put really big rollers into my hair for maximum bounceability. Also, I have applied this green mud type mask thingie, to "refine the pores."

**1:15 p.m.**

Went into mum's room. She looked at me and said, "Oh my."

Honestly.

I told her, "I am starting my beauty regime for when I go to Italy."

She said, "Georgia, you are not going to Italy."

I said, "Wrong."

She just looked at me.

As I was leaving she said, "Georgia that had better not be my good face mask, it cost more than your university fund."

I said to her, "Of course, Mum, there is about three quid in there as it has all gone to ridiculous clown cars and flash Elvis suits."

She tutted. Hmph.

**6 p.m.**

Just clothes to worry about now. Of course I haven't got a thing to wear. I do not know why I bother trying to look nice, as the love of my life is hundreds of miles away.

**Ten minutes later**

Maybe I will show up at the gig all sort of dressed down and with no makeup and with my usual crap hair. That will show everyone that I have only got eyes for the Lurve God, and also that I am not some tart trying to lure in…er, some other nameless, faceless tart. I will just go in a t-shirt and jimmy jammy pantaloons.

**Two minutes later**

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

**7:45 p.m.**

Off to the clock tower. I have got on a short black dress and it is quite hard to walk as it sort of smashes my thighs together. Also, I have got on quite strappy shoes which, as I explained to Mutti and Vati, are quite comfortable. And no, I will not fall and break my bum-oley.

But you can't tell parents.

**7:50**

Blimey O'Reilly's trousers, it is really difficult to walk. I will have to walk like those model types, even though it looks a bit daft.

**7:55**

Right so, step forward right leg, place in front of and slightly to the left of left leg. Step forward left leg, place in front off and slightly to the right of right leg. Step forward right leg…

**8:00 p.m.**

I got really into my new walking technique and didn't even notice how quickly I arrived at the clock tower. The Ace Gang were just looking at me like I was mad.

Which I am.

**8:05 p.m.**

Quick bout of "Let's Go Down the Disco," and we're off!


	5. Pants Gods and Unlikely Horn Advisors

**Stiff Dylans Gig**

**9 p.m.**

It is BLOODY crowded. Trampling feet, shoulders bumping, elbows flying, hands…er, handling. It is a good job I've got about three feet of panstick on so I will be safe if I am struck about the face. The gang and I are having a really fab time.

**9:20 p.m.**

I have decided that tonight I will let down my hair and keep Lurve Goddy and Sex Goddy thoughts at bay. And also thoughts of red bottomosity.

**9:21 p.m.**

Which I have none of. Easy peasy.

**9:30 p.m.**

No sign of Dave the Laugh.

**9:33 p.m.**

Not that I am looking.

**Grooving along to the Stiff Dylans**

Robbie is looking vair vair cool on stage. I'd almost forgotten what a fabby singer he is. There is a crowd of sods mooning over him in the front.

You know, my dumpee.

**10:15 p.m.**

Me, Rosie, Jools, Mabs, Honor, and even Jas and Ellen are all dancing like loons. For a while, Sven was sort of bobbing in the middle of the group of us doing a really mad dancing bit. But he has gone off.

**Grooving**

It is sort of lovely how Rosie is quite clearly insane even in front of Sven. She probably does not have to remind herself not to do mad laughing or to mind her nungas and suck in her nose and personify coolnosity.

**One minute later**

Well she's quite right not keep her insanity in check, as Sven has just "cart wheeled" through a really big crowd in the middle of the dance floor and smashed into the Stiff Dylans' equipment. He was really pleased with himself, he stood up and yelled "Righting on!"

The crowd cheered.

Rave on, loon. Give them what they want.

**Two minutes later**

As I was laughing along with everybody, Robbie caught my eye and gave me a little smile. Right, remain calm, do not do anything rash like give a mank wave or give him your full nostril-flaring smile.

I smiled back. And, er, waved. Brilliant.

**10:45 p.m.**

Viking bison disco inferno in full swing!! Rosie has, of course, brought the HORNS (oo-er) and we are doing a bit of mad dancing. My tootsies ache something awful already, but these are the sacrifices one must make for the ace gang.

I'll just take a bit of a breather.

**Tarts Wardrobe**

Routine hair and makeup check. All seems in order.

Well I would hope so, as I have forgone boy entrancers, and there are only so many things that can go wrong in my life. Right?

**11 p.m.**

Wrong.

Wet Lindsay slimed in wearing a flowy sort of knee-length dress and it makes her look even more like a stick insect (which, incidentally, I thought impossible). And you can see her thong through!!!

She went right up to the stage straight away (pathetico) and was looking at Robbie in what I think she imagines to be a sort of seductive, alluring way. Which it wasn't.

**One minute later**

Oh brilliant, ADM trailing behind like a (really naff) shadow. I said to Jas, "They really are slags of the first water. Wet Lindsay has no pridenosity, look at her drooling over Robbie and Monica hanging about. What a prize goosegog."

And then Jas said, "Well you will be able to display your pridenosity in all its glory, as Dave the Laugh has just arrived."

Oh pants.

An odd thing just happened. I would tell Jas, as she is my bestest pally, but she is first and foremost Radio Jas and also a bit on the "fringey twit" side. Also, lately she has leant toward the opinion that I have lost control of the reigns vis-à-vis my lips. And snogging. But she does not understand that they have got a mind of their own.

I wonder—what it is like to have the Specific Horn?

**11:05 p.m.**

Which, of course, I do. I meant, er, you know. For as long…as Jas has…had it.

**11:10 p.m.**

What sort of mates have I got? Jas is even giving me a telling-off in my head. She has put me off what I was going to tell you.

Right, so. When Jas said, "Oh, you are an enormous tart and I am going to enjoy watching your red bottom run wild and free now that Dave the Laugh has turned up" (or something such as that), there was a strange sort of swooping feeling in my stomach. Just from hearing his name.

**11:12 p.m.**

Dave the Laugh came sauntering in with Emma in tow. She was sort of clinging to the ends of his fingertips, just trailing behind before they broke apart to say hello to their mates (which, as it is well known, includes _moi_, but ask me if Dave has bothered to say hello since he has arrived. For the very dim who were about to waste their breath, the answer is NO).

Before she went off, Emma gave Dave a (really unnecessary) kiss on the lips. She is not looking very sad that her boyfriend is leaving her for Lederhosen-a-gogo Land.

**One minute later**

"Boyfriend," more like.

**11:15 p.m.**

Who, incidentally, is looking vair groovy. It is actually quite annoying.

**11:17 p.m.**

Dave made his rounds and then came over to where we were all dancing like loons. Dave gave everyone a peck (oo-er) on the cheek and did me (oo-er) last. And then he stayed really really close to my face and just looked me up and down. And smirked.

Honestly.

"Pip pip, Sex Kitty."

I thought it would be best to play it really cool bananas, as I am a Lurve God's one and only, so I said to him with maximum glaciosity, "Good evening, David" with my nose sort of in the air.

He raised one eyebrow, but I was clinging to my dignosity.

Which is why I smiled really widely at him.

He took my hand and said, "Come on, kittykat, let's groove."

**Midnight**

Dave really is a groovy dancer. And he is, it has to be said, quite a laugh. We are doing mad air guitar dancing again, dropping really low with our backs to each other and coming back up again.

It was quite risky on my part, as the bottom of my dress comes quite near to the neckline to be honest, but it was a success. I am, after all, double cool with knobs.

**At the bar**

Blimey, it is HOT. I must have a drink.

I have got quite a good view of the place from my stool.

**One minute later**

Oh lovely, Wet Lindsay is practically on top of the stage. I think she would do tricks for the (former) SG if he asked.

Still, she has not spread any of her slimy octopus essence my way.

**Two minutes later**

Emma has accosted—er—graced Dave the L with her presence. She is looking very serious talking really close to his face. I wonder what sort of things they talk about…

**Half a minute later**

Dave is shaking his head and talking all seriously back to her.

**12:25 a.m.**

Double poo and also merde! I was ogling away like an ogling thing at Dave and Emma talking, when he looked up. Straight at me!! I tried to look away. Not in a daft, obvious way, but sort of like I was looking a few feet away from where he was instead of AT him. But I think he caught me red bottomed—er, handed.

Now they are slow dancing and she is clinging really tightly to him. I think she might be blubbing a bit.

Why?

**Tarts Wardrobe**

The ace gang have all followed me in here to take the mickey. I'm not sure I blame them.

I was dancing with Dave and he was doing a sort of shoulder rolling bit at me and was kind of encouraging me to come back at him and I did. And I lost my footing stepping on some bloody cup and I fell. Forward. Onto Dave. And touched him in his pants!!!

I thought my head would drop off from redness, but Dave was casualosity personified. He said, "Oi, missus, I know I am gorgeous, but hands off. I am not that kind of bloke." But he was laughing. He did not seem to mind that I had come dangerously close to his trouser snake area.

Perhaps I need lessons on not being a spaz? I said to myself, _Right, it is not that bad Georgia, just do not say anything about trouser snakes or pants or Y-Fronts or anything that lets on how truly mad you are._

I thought I needed a bit of a breather so I said to Dave, "Excuse me, I've got to go to the fronts. Er, the loo. For…yes, excuse me."

He just chuckled at me. Blimey, he reeks of naughtinosity.

**On the dance floor**

Rosie and Sven, Jools and Rollo, Jas and Tom, Dec and Ellen, Mabs and Edward, and Dave the Laugh and Emma are all dancing together. I was sort of dancing along with all of them in turn for a bit, but eventually I was just dancing alone in the middle like the goosegog fiasco of the year.

**Outside**

Oh, why, Masimo, did you have to go off to Italy?

**1:15 a.m.**

I was looking up at the stars feeling all romantic and thinking about the Luurve God and that crap song about being under the same sky and looking at the same moon floated into my head. That is when Robbie joined me.

I was a bit lost in my own (mad) head so it startled me a bit when he said hello.

Lord's pajamas he is gorgey.

We started talking and it was actually quite comfortable. Well, comfortable compared to my crap history of bonkerosity with the (former) SG.

He said, "Looks like you've been having fun tonight."

Oh bugger. Had he noticed the incident with my hand and Dave the Laugh's…bits?

I said, "Yes, it's alright if you like bits."

Why?

He looked at me like I am bonkers.

I am.

But then he laughed. He said, "Always thought you were a bit mad, Georgia. I mean that in the best way."

Oh, yes, yes, I have been to this particular cakeshop of humiliation before.

"Shame Dave is leaving," he said.

I got really nervous and defensive and all weird for a moment (what for?) and asked him, "Why?"

He looked at me funny, sort of suspicious. Oh dear Lord, I have even alerted Robbie to my red bottom.

He said, "Aren't you and Dave quite good mates?"

"Oh yes, we are, all casualosity and mateyness aplenty. He is, er, quite a laugh."

Robbie laughed. "Always thought you two would get on well. That's why I…well, you know."

I nodded. I was not keen to talk about the whole _Robbie dumping me for being too young and saying I should go out with Dave the sodding Laugh_ fandango.

And then, my little pallies, came the pièce de whatsit.

"Now I mention it, Gee…why've you never given it a go with Dave?"

"Er. I have—"

"A proper go, I mean."

Why?

Was this not awkward enough?

But of course, why should I make it through an entire gig with no lackaday or incident?

Because my life is crap, that is why.

But I must gird my loins with a firm hand and proclaim my undying love for the Luurve God. Perhaps I could laugh attractively, in a way that kind of says, _are you mad?_

Girdy loins, girdy loins.

**Back inside**

Everyone seems to be rounding up their mates and things, ready to head out. Which is all well and good as far as _moi_ is concerned.

When Robbie asked me about Dave the Laugh, I just stammered and couldn't really do much more than my world-renowned impression of a goldfish with learning disabilities.

On the bright side, he left it.

Still, he has been looking at me all knowingly. Vair vair annoying, even for a Sex Goddy type.

That is, until Wet Lindsay grabbed hold of him with her tentacles. He looked pleased. Not.

**Heading back with the Gang**

**1:45 a.m.**

Everyone has had a wail of a time. Even I must admit it was groovy.

Everyone was a bit tuckered on the way home though. The girls were all groaning about their shoes and things.

Jas (annoyingly) said, "I bet you lot wish Rosie's mum was giving us a lift home now."

Rosie said, "You weren't complaining when you got to snog Tom half the way" and Jas went beetroot.

Ha! Snack on that, swotty knickers.

**In my bed**

I had to do the famous _sneaky sneaky creepy creep _into the house, so as not to disturb the elderly insane, and also Libby. Success!

**2:30 a.m.**

My emotions are very literally a mixed bag.

I am, of course, madly in LURVE with a LURVE God (you see how meant to be it is). It is nice to be all matey with Robbie, even though we have dumped each other. He really is gorgey.

So all ought to be well and good.

Why does Dave the L, my mate and Horn Advisor (and occasional snogging partner), make me feel all sort of funny?

**2:40 a.m.**

Perhaps I am subconsciously aware of the ticking whatsit. We have only been mates for about three seconds and now he is off to Lederhosen-a-gogo to find new mates and girlfriends and …new Sex Kitties.

The idea made me feel really sick to my stomach.

**Two minutes later**

On the way out of the Stiff Dylans gig, I saw Dave the Laugh leaving with Emma. He came up to me and said, "Nice moves, kittykat" and was smiling a really groovy smile.

But that is all he got to say to me when we were on our own, as Emma came up really shortly after he did and said, "Night, Georgia. It was really nice seeing you."

Was it? Why?

I just smiled in what I like to think is an attractive, dismissive sort of way. There was a bit of a silence where Dave looked all smothered. Then he leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. Except when he did it, he also took my hand in his and grasped it really quickly and tightly. He did it really inconspicuously. It felt like sort of a secret between us.

It made me feel a bit naughty and excited.

He said to me as he was turning away with Emma, "I'll give you a call, shall I?"

I nodded at him. What a sad prat.

Who nods?

**2:50 a.m.**

Oh, who the bloody hell can sleep with Lurve Gods and Pantsmasters and trips to Italy to worry ab—Zzzzz…


	6. The Red Bottom in the Wardrobe

**Tuesday, August 9th**

**Midday**

Oh, the life of a girlfriend of a Luurve God. It is _la dolce vita_ extraordinaire. Fabby gigs, cat eyes, scooters, eschewing Mutti and Vati with a firm hand, etc, etc. I do not know how I keep up really. It is a good job there is only one true Italian Stallion and Lurve God, as other twits would fall apart at the knickers.

Imagine Jas, for instance. She is my bestest pally, but there is no denying that she is quite simple. She has got normal parentals, for one, so she has not had to share a home with the criminally insane. She has also had the Specific Horn for about forty years, so she has not spent most of her life at Heartbreak Hotel. Unlike _moi._ I am like one of those that's been raised by voles and then resurfaces years later a bit "different". And I do not mean "different" in a really cool and exciting way. I mean "different" the way PE teachers drone on about it in assembly when there has been an innocent little spot of teasing in the Tarts Wardrobe and the whole school must suffer through a telling off (honestly, the elderly mad can be so touchy about Nauseating P. Green).

But I have been "raised" by the very mad, which might be worse than voles. I do not know. Anyway, it is a wild ride but I am full of sophisticosity so I must keep my pants about me.

**4:00 p.m.**

LG rang! He sounded devastatingly dreamy, which is no easy feat for a boytype person, as they usually sound dim and spotty. Yes, spotty. Even over the phone. It is tragic. And I know what I am talking about, as I am nodding wisely.

Anyway, the Lurve God phoned and said, "Ciao my Georgia. You are doing well, I hope?"

I said I was a bit of all right, how was he? I sounded really REALLY keen. But, oh, who cares, I am the girlfriend of a Luuuuuuuuuurve God!!!

Masimo said, "I was hoping for you to call me for Monday. You are having a, I think a break, yes? From your school? But this is okay, caro, if you like to play with me a cat and mouse."

Er…cat and…what?

Oh, I have done it again. It is like the time I did not give him my phone number because I was too busy practicing bonkerosity and he called me Miss Hard to Get. I wonder—what would the Hormeister say?

I said to him, "Oh, sorry about that. My Vati—er, my father goes a bit mad about the phone, you see. You are very brave to call actually, you should have seen what happened last time a boy gave me a RING. Ahahahahahahhahahahaha."

Do not bother telling me that I am _pathetico_ beyond the Valley of the Naff and…even more beyond. I know.

It was really silent on the other end while I arranged my brain. What I do not understand is why it never comes out with anything sensible. Worse, I have told the Lurve God (who, incidentally, is probably busy sipping wine and strumming a guitar and serenading beautiful Italian ladies over a candlelit dinner) that I could not call because my Vati said no. How cool and full of sophisticosity. NOT.

And it is not even true. I have been trying to display coolnosity with just a hint of glaciosity to prove that I am my own woman and definitely not a spaz and can accept that Masimo is like a rubber band in Italy and will come springing back to me if I let his trousers wander free. It was really difficult keeping away from the phone (i.e., keeping my red bottom in check) but all has gone to plan(ish).

Masimo said, "Ah, Georgia, you are a very, eh, a special girl. I think, maybe, this is why I like you."

I thanked him (idiot) and then we got to talking about Italy and piazzas and gelato and sfogliatelli and some other Italy type nonsense that I cannot remember. I will just have to see when I get there. Which I will.

Off to Jas's for now.

**4:02 p.m.**

Stopped on the way out by Libby. There was definitely a glint of INSANITY in her eyes as she popped up from nowhere. "Gingey STAY."

"Now, Bibbs. Your big sister's got things to—"

"BAD BOY." And she chucked Our Lord Sandra at me. And it hit me. In the eye.

**4:20 p.m.**

Oh, brilliant. My eye has swollen shut like a horrible…swollen thing. Mutti is being all parenty and pressing a bag of frozen peas to it. "Naughty, Libby. Look what you've done to your sister's lovely face. She looks awful."

Oh, cheers, thanks Mum.

Libby was stroking my hair in what she imagined to be a really kind, comforting way (I'll be bald as Uncle Eddie by sundown) and saying, "Naiiice, Ginger, I LOBE you. Naiiice, naiiice…"

She is mad.

**4:30 p.m.**

Looking in the mirror. Mutti was trying to keep me away from the bathroom so I would not be able to see the horror that is my face. But then Vati came bearding in and she forgot she had a daughter.

It is actually not terrible. I think if I put loads of panstick over it you won't even be able to see the redness. It is starting to go a bit purplish though…

**4:38 p.m.**

Jas rang. "Well are you coming round or not?"

I said, "Oh yes, just after I find my eyeball."

"What are you on about?"

"I have been gravely injured."

"Georgia, for once will you stop acting like a fool and explain yourself?" Blimey O'Reilly's Trousers, she sounded like Miss Stamp. I heard Rosie's voice say, "Let me talk to her" and then she said to me, "_Allo_."

"_Oui_."

"Why haven't you come round, Georgia, _mon petite amie_? All well? Shall I fetch the beard?"

And I explained what happened to my eye.

"_Non!_"

"_Oui._"

"_Merde, merde, _and three times_ merde!_"

**5:30 p.m.**

Jas, RoRo, Ellen, Mabs, Jools, and I have all been working on my black eye. Jas's Mum's got A LOT of makeup supplies. I would not mind being her daughter for a day. Or forever. And her lippy selection is not even the main reason.

Yes, actually it is.

**5:35 p.m.**

Tom has invited everyone for a do round his house. I will bet my red roaming bottom that all the usual suspects will be there.

Which is brilliant obviously, as I look like a boxer. A really, really CRAP boxer.

**7:30 p.m.**

Off to Tom's after a bit of tarting up. Ellen, in a stroke of (unusual) genius, suggested that I just spend the evening in sunglasses. I look a bit like a film star, if I do say so myself.

**7:50 p.m.**

Yes, yes, all the usual suspects. Loads of Foxwood lads are here, including Dave the Laugh. Also, Robbie is hanging round. No parentals in sight. I will have to ask Jas if they'll be popping in.

**8:00 p.m.**

Tom's mum and dad had to run off for the night because his granddad is ill! Brilliant!!! I said that to Jas. She said, "No, actually, it's quite sad. He's got Alzheimer's and it's really nothing to…" Rave on, Jazzy Spazzy.

I said to her, "Yes, but Jas, aren't you excited that you'll be able to spend an evening with Hunky? ALONE?"

"Well, I won't be alone, will I? You're here and Ellen and Rollo…"

"Jas."

"What?"

"Shut up."

She stalked off, probably to talk badgers with Hunky.

**8:30 p.m.**

I was just looking at some of the CDs as I felt the party could use a bit of music when Dave the Laugh came up to me. He said, "Gee, I know I am radiant, but shades? Really?"

I scoffed at him with maximum coolnosity, even though I was really really pleased to see him. I do not know what I'll do when he is gone. I have sort of convinced myself that it is not actually happening. In three days.

I said, "I am hanging low key tonight, you see what I mean."

He gave me a really gorgey crinkly smile. "Yes, kittykat, but WHY are you wearing sunglasses? It is really dim."

I said, "Do you mean that I am dim for wearing sunglasses or that it is dark in here?"

He just looked at me. But I knew he meant "Both."

**8:45 p.m.**

Dave has dragged me off to the kitchen were Robbie and a few of his mates are hanging about drinking wine. I thought only olds hung about drinking wine.

Robbie smiled really sweetly at me when I came in. He seemed unfazed by the whole sunglasses fandango. I have conditioned him not to respond to my bonkerosity. He is not even surprised.

Blimey.

I actually sounded very close to normal when I said, "Hi Robbie."

And then Robbie offered us some wine. I remember Mutti let me taste some ages ago (as she is a reckless mother) so I thought it would be alright.

**9:00 p.m.**

Just hanging about with Dave the Laugh, Robbie, and his mates, drinking a bit of wine. Cabernet, evidently. Double cool _au _knobs.

**9:03 p.m.**

I must remember to keep all of my sophisticosity about me. Mind the nose, do not do any of that pursey lips business that Mutti does when she sips wine, no scrunchy nose, etc, etc, etc.

Well, nobody said sophisticosity was easy.

**9:10 p.m.**

Sippy sip, sippy sip.

**9:15 p.m.**

Oh, and for those who wondered, CABERNET IS BLOODY TERRIBLE!!! ERLACK A PONGOES!!!

I will just have to casually place my glass down and pretend I have forgotten something in the other room and "forget" that I've still got a glass in the kitchen.

**In the living room**

Oh lovely. Emma has just arrived so I won't be missed. Hmph.

She is looking quite lovely. I am a bit miffed.

**Grooving**

Dancing about with RoRo and Sven. They have both had about half a liter of wine each. Their behavior barely changed.

**9:45 p.m.**

I was just nipping to the loo upstairs when I saw Robbie through a tiny crack in one of the doors. Was that where his bedroom was? It had been so long…

**One minute later**

On the way back downstairs, I remembered once at Stalag 14 I heard Wet Lindsay raving about how Robbie had stuck a picture of her up in his bedroom. I found Jas and I asked her, "Do you think Robbie has really got a picture of Wet Lindsay in his room?"

Ol' Huffy Knickers said, "Oh no, Georgia. Not Robbie again. You leave him alone."

"Jas, my little pally, don't you see? This is not about Robbie. This is about Wet Lindsay."

"If you're bothered about it you're as bad as she is."

"Come upstairs with me and check, Robbie's just come back down."

**Five minutes later**

Jas has, predictably, said _No, Absolutely not,_ and also _toss off._ A bit coarse for such a swot. "And I don't think you should go either, Georgia, it is an invasion of privacy and it's…" Divvy div, divvy div…

**10:00 p.m.**

I have convinced RoRo to come up with me. We are sneaking about on tiptoe. It seemed appropriate, especially as I am wearing sunglasses in the dark.

I went into the room I had seen Robbie in earlier, but it did not look like I remembered it. It was really plain and bare. Maybe because he was going back to snog marsupials on the other side of the planet?

But I did not have time to think more on it, as we heard voices outside!!! They were really near the door!!!

What do we do??? I was very near diving out of the window when Rosie said, "In the closet!! In the closet!!"

**Two minutes later**

Here we are then, hiding out in the closet like a couple of sad manky idiots. It is a good job I am not with Miss Huffy Knickers (Jas) as she probably would have gone all honorable and said, "Look Georgia, we will just have to admit that we'd been snooping and leave quietly."

Twit.

The really annoying bit is that we were in there for nearly a full minute before anyone came into the room (we could see out as the doors were those shutter type things), just squeezed together like idiots. We dove in the closet and the voices just sort of retreated. Typico.

I do not know what we would have done if it was Robbie coming in needing a fresh pair of trousers or something. I said to Rosie, "What do we do if Robbie is coming in for a change and needs the closet?" She just looked at me really horrified.

And that is when Dave the Laugh walked in.

Actually, that is when Dave the Laugh was shoved in backwards, attached at the mouth with Emma.

**10:05 p.m.**

Blimey O'Reilly's trousers. My eyes have seen it all.

Emma was just holding Dave really tightly and snogging him, also kind of walking toward the bed when it caught Dave behind the knees and he stumbled backward onto it. With Emma. On him. In bed.

I looked sideways at Rosie, who was looking at me already. She looked a bit mad, with her eyebrows up really really high and her mouth open. Just ogling at me.

Then she mouthed, "This must be the guest room."

What were we supposed to do???

**10:15 p.m.**

Well, I'll tell you what we didn't do. We didn't snog for England, which is what Dave and Emma did. They were rolling around all clinging and I think I even saw some lip nibbling!!!

I should not have been watching this. But try telling my eyes that. I felt a bit like I was going to be sick, actually, and Rosie kept looking at me really nervously.

No worries though, we've all had a bit of a snog. They would get a bit bored of it and just go back to the party, right?

Wrong.

Emma had gone all moony over him, doing a lot of "Mmm"ing.

Dave was being really kind to her and also annoyingly appealing(ish). As in rate-able. A LOT. Just kissing her really slowly and deeply.

He really was quite groovy, wasn't he?

Even though he is only my mate.

**One minute later **

Then why did I feel like throwing something?

**Two minutes later**

Good God, they are tearing through the snogging scale. They have been in here about three seconds and they have just breezed right through up to Number Eight.

**10:20 p.m.**

Oh pants. Emma kind of broke free of Dave and then sat on him. As in, sat straddling him. In bed. On him.

Do not ask me why, but I felt a bit like setting her ablaze. With fire. But do not ask me why.

And then Rosie nudged me really hard in the ribs. I looked at her and mouthed, "WHAT???" really angrily and she just pointed wildly through the door at Dave and Emma.

I cannot tell you why Rosie nudged me really hard in the ribs and was going a bit mad, as it would be quite unseemly. Yes, yes, I will have to be all responsible and zip my lips and throw away the key or whatever the very daft say about keeping quiet.

Oh all right. Emma had…er, well she had…lost something. Yes, she had lost something. Except she hadn't really lost it as much as she had _taken it off_. You see what I mean.

Oh all right, she had taken off her shirt (she was wearing her basooma holder, of course). Still on Dave.

Sitting on him.

Shirtless.

She did it in a slow way that I think she imagined to look a bit sexy and nice.

The _tres _pooey and really really uncool beyond the Valley of _Merde _part, my little mates, was that it sort of did. And I do not mean that in a lezzie way, as I am not Nauseating P. Green.

Dave looked a bit on the amazed side when she did it, but not necessarily pleased. Which was a bit of all right as far as _moi_ is concerned.

Emma started snogging him again and they rolled over so that Dave was lying over her, kissing her, when she took off Dave's shirt too!! And he let her!! And then she started messing about with his belt!!

Good God. I was going to be sick.

And that is when Dave did something really really bizarre. I nearly fell over in shock and exposed myself as a tabhanging prat.

Rosie and I looked at each other in disbelief.

It was unbelievable, that is why.

He said to Emma, grabbing her hand that was on his belt, "Wait. Hang on."

Rosie practically broke my shin kicking it. I very nearly gave away our position (again) howling in pain. I whispered really close to her ear, "Are you mad???" She just kept watching. Which I do not blame her for, as Dave had really made a spectacle of himself.

Was HE mad? He was definitely a different breed of boy, as boytypes, as a rule, say neither "wait" nor "hang on" when a bird has got her hand near his pants. I am actually quite certain that they are unable to speak at all, as their hormones make everything—er, well, almost everything—a bit useless.

Dave said, "We should probably, erm, stop."

She said, "Why? Don't you…you know…want to?"

"Er…well, I think…it's not that I don't…haven't you had a bit of wine?"

I never thought I'd see Dave the Laugh go red. Then again, I never thought I would see a boytype person acting reasonably, but there you are.

Emma said really close to Dave's face, "You have as well, lover, haven't you?"

Dave chuckled a bit nervously. "Yeah, I have."

Emma said, "So..? Don't worry about it, Dave, I've…we'll even without being a bit—well, if I even am a bit tipsy—I just…I've wanted to anyway. With, er, you. You know?"

Had she turned into Ellen?

And more importantly…was she—was she talking about NUMBER TEN?

The Full Monty???

Now???

With me and Rosie in the closet??? With eyes???

And also, HOLY PANTS.

**One minute later**

Just when I was thinking that I would probably become a lesbian (or worse, a nun) if I was forced to watch Dave the Laugh get to Number Ten, Dave spoke.

"Wow. Emma, that's…I…"

They were just looking at each other. Dave looked a bit like a (lovely) deer caught in headlights. I was going to explode my red bottom all over the inside of wardrobe if someone did not speak.

Should I?

Dave said (after about a million years), "Listen, love…" He sat up. "I just would rather you decided that when your head was a bit…clearer. That alright?"

Emma had tears in her eyes. She said really quietly, "But you're leaving."

Dave smiled sadly. "Exactly."

They sat there in silence for a bit while RoRo and I hovered in the closet like a couple of fools.

Emma asked Dave, "Have you ever…you know…"

Dave shook his head. (HA!) He didn't ask her if she'd ever "you know…"ed.

She said, "I really really like you, Dave."

He just smiled and took her into his arms. He was stroking her hair. He said, "I think we ought to get back downstairs."

She nodded and they both put their shirts on again. But Dave stayed laying across the bed.

"You're coming, aren't you, Davey?" Emma asked him.

"In a bit."

She looked really confused but left him anyway.

Dave just stayed there for a moment on his back with his forearm pressed against his forehead.

**Half a minute later**

Dave looked really groovy lying across the bed. It sort of gave me the Horn.

Was he ever going to leave though???

**10:28 p.m.**

Dave sat up eventually and mumbled something to himself. Rosie and I were both listening really hard.

I sort of wish I hadn't been.

Because then he took a really deep sigh and said in a low voice, "Bloody Georgia" and hopped off the bed and went downstairs!!!!

Bloody Georgia???

For the very dim who have not realized, I AM GEORGIA!!!!

**10:30 p.m.**

Rosie and were still standing there. Still in the closet.

In silence.

For ages.

What does Dave mean, "Bloody Georgia"?

I turned to RoRo. She was looking at me with her eyebrows raised. Her mouth was just lolling open in shock.

It was shocking, that is why.

"Rosie. I have just realized something _tres_ significo."

"What?"

"You will think I am mad."

"I already think you are mad."

Good point. Well made.

I took a really deep breath. "I do not think Dave the Laugh is just my mate."

She said, "_Non!_"

"_Oui._"

"Blimey. And he is leaving and everything."

I felt really horrible and sad inside. I said to Rosie, still in the closet, "Dave the Laugh is moving to another country. And I may very well be madly in LURVE with him."

_Sacre_ bloody _bleu_!


	7. Dave der Lachen

**Wednesday**

**In bed**

**9:00 a.m.**

Why am I awake before midday on break?

Because life is not fair, that is why.

I will just try to get back to sleep. Maybe that will help me to forget how crap my life is. It is like what they say in Shamrocks-a-gogo Land, a good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in a doctor's pants.

**9:15 a.m.**

I know better of course. Whoever made that up had, apparently, never really met a good laugh.

Unlike _moi_, who knows that a good laugh is TROUBLE.

**Still in bed**

**9:30 a.m.**

I cannot believe that Emma tried to get to Number Ten with Dave.

When RoRo and I finally went back downstairs, it felt really weird to be around Dave the Laugh, even though he didn't know that we had seen him snogging for England and nearly having his PANTS ripped off. And also declining the Full Monty.

Emma was looking weepy for a bit and then had to get home. Dave walked her out. Apparently they are meeting tomorrow, which is Thursday, which is one day away from Friday, which is when Dave leaves.

Bugger.

**Lolling around in the bath**

Dave really really makes me laugh. For a bit last night, we were just grooving along to the music and just chatting and acting like loons. It was really nice.

Eventually Rosie came up and said, "Oh Dave, are you still drinking wine? What is that, NUMBER TEN?"

It was actually a shining moment of hilariosity, even though Dave did not get it.

Dave grabbed my hand and said to me, "C'mon gorgeous, come round back with me. Tom's got a really nice yard."

Oh, I see what you are doing, Dave the Tart. In the YARD??? The yard in the warm summer weather under the stars with the moon shining brightly as a shining thing?

I was just going to say to him, "Do you know, I do not really think that that is the best idea, and as two adults brimming with maturosity, I think we ought to stay here with everyone else."

That is what MY BRAIN was going to say to him but my MOUTH said, "Alright then."

Typico.

Anyway, we were sitting on a sort of swinging bench. Dave was looking _tres_ groovy but also a bit miserable. I said to him, "All well, Hornmeister?" as though I had not seen him with Emma in the guest room.

He just gave a little shrug and a smile, and he said, "Don't want to go is all."

"Yes, well, I…I really, really don't want you to go either."

Dave was really smiling now, his best crinkly one. He said, "You will have to find another Horn Advisor, Sex Kitty. What will you do when I am gone and the General Horn sounds?"

I felt really sad when he said it. I did not want another Horn Advisor. And I sort of secretly wanted Dave the Laugh to be my official snogging partner. But I could not tell him that.

I said, "Oh, you think you are crafty. I will be phoning."

He laughed.

For some reason I felt a bit like that was the last time I'd ever get to talk to him. I do not mean I thought one of us was going to snuff it, I mean that I felt a bit like the clock was ticking and it would be our last conversation about life and LURRRVE and that nonsense.

And Dave the Laugh was actually quite thoughtful.

His deepnosity really gave me the Horn.

I said, "You are not only my Horn Advisor, you are quite a good mate and you are leaving. I think I am a bit miffed at you."

"Oi, not fair, Sex Kitty."

"Obviously, Pantsmaster, as life is not fair. Actually, it is full of tragnosity and is also CRAP."

"Shall I come live with you?"

"If you are willing to risk it."

"What do you mean?"

"You can live with me but only after a six week training period. In an asylum for the criminally insane. Also, you must be prepared to get to at least Number Six with Mutti."

"I do quite fancy your mum."

I said "erlack!" but we both laughed.

**At Jas's**

**1:00 p.m.**

Honestly, my mates are almost as crap as my "family" is. Oh sure, Mutti may have left me a fiver for some new lippy and a magazine with sex and LURVE advice, but still. She is so insensitive about Dave the Laugh. When I told her he is moving she did not even know who he was. She said, "Who's that? Isn't Masimo your boyfriend?"

I said, "Yes mum, Dave is just my mate."

She was obviously only half listening as she is crap at parenthood and then she sent me off to boots for whatever it is that olds need from the store.

**1:10 p.m.**

Oh yes, I was going to tell you about how CRAP my mates are. They have not even asked about me hanging round with Dave the Laugh last night.

Actually, that is not entirely true, as Ellen said, "Oh so, Georgia, I was, er, not that I was—well I saw you and Dave the Laugh, you know, on the swing, but I wasn't…"

Ellen is what is known in the business as very, very dim.

**1:30 p.m.**

Rosie has told everyone about the whole Emma trying to get to Number Ten with Dave and her and I hiding in the wardrobe fandango!!! Is she mad???

I said to Rosie, "ARE YOU MAD???"

But nobody is paying any attention. They have all gone into ditherspaz mode, just falling about.

Ellen is beetroot. I think she is torn between excitement and sadnosity which, for Ellen, is no easy feat.

And then she said, "Did you, erm, you know…"

I said, "Did we what?"

"Well, I was just wondering if, er, you…at…when…"

"WHAT, Ellen? In the name of PANTS, did we WHAT???"

And she asked us, "Well, did you, erm…see...it?"

We all went really really red.

Just looking at her.

Like a bunch of dithering red idiots.

Which we were.

**Five minutes later**

Obviously Mrs. Huge Knickers has changed the subject. As far as she is concerned, trouser snakes do not exist. Especially not Dave the Laugh's. Which is all well and good as far as _moi_ is concerned, as he is my mate(ish).

**2:00 p.m.**

Working on some chuddie with the ace gang. We are having a bubble blowing contest. As we are soooooooo full of maturosity.

**2:20 p.m.**

I wonder what Dave the Laugh is doing?

Shutupshutupshutup brain!!!!

I wonder what MASIMO is doing.

You know, my really really groovy Italian boyfriend.

**3:00 p.m.**

Maybe I ought to give Dave a call though.

We left each other a bit weird last night. Which is technically normal for Dave and me.

When we were sitting on the swing I asked him what he was going to do about Emma since he was going.

Dave looked really guilty. "This will sound a bit unkind, kittykat... I would have ended it anyway I think. She's a really nice girl and everything, she just…you know."

I said, "Oh" but I did not want to say anything else because I did not want Dave to start talking about the incident in the guest room as my brain might drop out and I might blab about tabhanging.

I said to Dave, "Blimey Dave, you are really tearing through the birds. You are a right cad."

He was agog as…an agog thing. His eyes were like saucers and he said, "ME??? Okay, Miss User. Miss 'I've got about eight hundred blokes on the burner.'"

Good point. Well made.

But still, HMPH.

Dave asked me when Masimo was coming back and I told him.

He said, "Ah. I wonder if he has bought a new dress in _Italia._"

I said, "You are not nice about Masimo, Dave."

(Mind you, I am not complaining. Even though I think Masimo is dreamy and fab, I secretly liked it a bit when Dave the Laugh slagged him off. I do not know why.)

Dave the Laugh laughed a bit harshly. He said, "Why should I be? He is flash and he is no good for you."

I said, "No good for ME? Er, Dave? Have you SEEN Masimo?"

And he looked a bit angry then. Which was odd, as Dave the Laugh had never really been angry with me before.

He said, "Is that it then? He's fit looking? That what you look for in a bloke?"

I said, "Er."

Dave rolled his eyes and said to me, "Right so, that's it, know about three words of English…your conversations must be SCINTILLATING, by the way. And what else? Hang about with Wet Lindsay on your free time, be flash and a bit dim, ride a daft scooter…"

"Oi, relax Pantsmaster, he is a good bloke."

"Yes, but is he your mate?"

Er…

Should he be?

I said, "Well, is Emma your mate?"

And he said, "Not really, no. That is why it is not right."

And I said, "Well maybe in Germany you'll…" But I didn't say anything else. I felt really horrible about Dave leaving.

Was he going to find his flamingo there?

I felt a bit angry thinking about it, even though I had used him as a red herring and sort of dragged him along and told him all about my Sex God and Lurve God troubles. And even though I was the girlfriend of a Luurve God.

And that is when Dave just reached over and took off my sunglasses. He did it looking really thoughtful but then he stopped and squinted at my crap eye.

"What happened?"

"Our Lord Sandra."

"Our Lord Sandra???" He was looking at me like I was bonkers.

"Yes, specifically the arm."

"Georgia—are you mad?"

I said back, "No, are YOU mad?"

Oh no! The next step was Number Four on the snogging scale!!!

But Dave just smiled and bent really near my face. He smelled really nice, even his breath. I closed my eye as he had come really near it and he kissed the lid really softly.

It was jelloid knees extraordinaire. It was a good job I was sitting down already.

I did not even realize it, but when Dave kissed my eye I started clutching his shoulders really tightly. They were really hard (oo-er). Blimey.

Had Dave the Laugh always been this fit?

He said, "What's wrong, kittykat?"

I said something to the effect of "Hnnngh."

He seemed to think that was a good opportunity to snog me.

My lips have had a stern telling off not to pucker up for Dave the Laugh, let alone actually snog him.

They did though.

A lot.

When it was time to go home I was in such a tizz of a spaz that I nearly blabbed to Dave about his surprise going away do.

I said to him, "I'll see you on Th—er, well I'll see you…in time."

In time???

And Dave said, "Don't worry, Sex Kitty, I will visit before I go. You know, after I've visited…erm…at…people. So…right."

And I said, "Yes, that's…brill. I've got to, er, you know…be off."

But neither of us knew what we were talking about.

**5:00 p.m.**

Jas has gone mad. She was gnawing my bloody ear off about Dave the Laugh's party. And then she said, "I am surprised you lot are not putting together some sort of scheme."

What? Why? I said that to her.

And she said, "Well, I know you can be a bit touchy about some of the guests."

What in the name of Beezlebub was she talking about?

And then she said to me, "Haven't you heard? Wet Lindsay is going to be there."

I said to Jas, "WRONG."

**5:25 p.m.**

Rosie has taken the reigns. She has said that she will not let Wet Lindsay into her house. Jas and Ellen were going on about how Dave and Lindsay have got mutual mates and as Dave is leaving for good we should not deprive anyone of…

Who cares?

**6:00 p.m.**

Jas, Rosie, Ellen, and Jools and me were getting really restless so we are having a walk along High Street. Brill.

Rosie said, "Well? What is going on with the Masimo fandango?"

And I said to her, "It's going alright as an…alright thing. He has phoned me and we talked about gelati and things and how we will visit the piazza when I visit and then he said I can play cat and mouse with him as I did not ring him earlier and I think it also had something to do with me not giving him my phone number…"

They all just looked at me.

Like I was talking complete rubbish or something.

I suppose it did have a touch of the "guilty, scarlet-bottomed minx" to it.

**6:12 p.m.**

Oh bloody hell. Dave the Laugh is EVERYWHERE. He saw us coming along High Street and he shouted really loudly, "LOOK LADS, SUPPER!!"

And then he started prancing over. Like a lion.

Like we were gazelles.

Honestly, he is soooooo immature.

**One minute later**

"Hello laaaaaaaaddeeeeeez. You are all looking particularly lovely tonight."

And Rosie said to him, "We are ALL looking PARTICULARLY lovely?"

Dave said, "Yes. Who is the Vati?"

And we all sort of mumbled, "Er, you are."

**Two minutes later.**

Rosie is honestly fab in the extreme. She said to Dave, "Dave, you have said we are looking lovely tonight. Would you say that we are TENs?"

But he did not get it. He said to her, "I give you my highest mark, Ro. 9 and a half."

He is soooooo naughty.

It really gave me the Horn.

Shutupshutupshutup.

**Midnight**

**In bed**

Dave did not seem very upset that he is leaving in two days.

Jools was playing it really cool bananas when Dave was around. She said so that everyone could hear, "Georgia, how was it when you talked to Masimo today?"

From the corner of my eye I could see Dave look at me. In, you know, a looking-at-me way.

It serves him right. He is the one off to Lederhosen-a-gogo. He is not even Dave the Laugh anymore. He is very nearly Dave _der Lachen_.

I said, "Brilliant." Which it was, as Masimo has got theeeeee most gorgey voice ever as well as the most gorgey cat eyes.

Dave the Laugh has not got lovely yellow cat eyes.

His eyes are sort of yellow though. But Masimo has got really gorgey amber eyes, almost a sort of golden-orange. Dave's eyes are a bit greener. Sort of pear colored.

And groovy.

**12:10 a.m.**

Dave the Laugh is, it has to be said, a laugh. And he is vair vair cool looking.

And is an excellent snogger.

**12:15 p.m.**

But Masimo is really sweet and has got a lovely accent, even if Dave says we do not understand each other. And he does neck nuzzling and snogging.

**12:20 p.m.**

Dave is the King of lip nibbling though. I do fancy his lip nibbling. It is really quite—

What am I going on about??? I have been hanging round the cakeshop of LURVE again and I have already purchased my Italian cakey!!! No exchanges!!!

And what is more, Dave the Laugh is going to Germany. To live.

**12:30 a.m.**

Forever.

**12:32 p.m.**

Perhaps it is good riddance. I will have to bite the whatsit and see the silver lining in Dave going away.

**12:45 a.m.**

Or I can blubber. Really really hard.


	8. A Kip to End All Kips

**Thursday, August 11****th**

**Dave the Laugh's Last Laugh**

**5:55 a.m.**

I have slept for about five minutes. I will look like Nauseating P. Green today.

Well, perhaps not that unfortunate looking.

**5:58 a.m.**

I am surprised I have not gone grey already though. I do not know how anyone is meant to be able to tolerate the absolute crapnosity of life.

As life is, it has to be said, CRAP.

And that is _le_ fact.

Without doubtosity.

**6:30 a.m.**

Libby has joined me in my bed of pain. I thought I would try to get back to sleep, but now there is no hope.

**7:45 a.m. **

Peering out the window. Birds singing, sun shining, clouds, er…cludding. It is actually quite cruel and ironical.

On the bright side, I have checked the mirror and my eye is looking well(ish). It is still a bit red and does not open as well as the other.

I will have to do a bit of work before…tonight.

**8:00 a.m.**

I splashed a lot of cold water on my face but that has not helped. I will have to use a cold compress…

**8:15 a.m.**

Vati has, of course, done a bit of portly scoffing at me. He obviously does not understand the struggles of sixteen, as he is ancient.

He was muttering some nonsense about people being vain.

Rave on, bearded one.

**9:00 a.m.**

Masimo rang!!!!

And also!

He said, "_Buona mattina_, a good morning for you, Georgia _caro_. It is not too much early, I hope?"

"No, no, it is the perfect amount of early actually. I mean…well, how are you?"

He laughed and said he was doing well and he told me (again) how wonderful it was to see his family. And then he said he missed me!!!

I said, "You too. It will be lovely to see you when you get back."

Will it?

Which brought up the whole me visiting him in Italy fandango (again). I was trying to explain that my "parents" are all mad and unreasonable and he will have to find himself a new bird in Italy to snog (which I did not mean).

He said, "If they are not wanting you to travel alone, I can understand. _Ma_ I am in Italy for two, three weeks more…well, it is eighteen days. If it is this problem, perhaps you can come to see me for my last week in Italy. Then together we can take the plane to home. I will like to see you and for you to meet my family."

Phwaor. Masimo, the Luurve God and Italian Stallion, wants me to meet his family.

**10:00 a.m.**

Home alone again now, as Mutti and Vati have gone off to "work." Also, I am "too irresponsible to care for my little sister."

Mind you, I am not complaining.

Angus and Naomi are just yowling like loons on the garden wall. Their love is so pure and simple. They just lick each other's bum-oleys and give each other the occasional duffing up.

Ah, love.

**10:05 a.m.**

Blimey, my eye is watering like mad…

**Two minutes later**

Oh, that is right. I have not told you. I have put some sellotape on my eyelid to keep it open. The result is that I look really shocked in one eye and also that it is burning and watering.

A lot.

When I went into the kitchen earlier, Mutti and Vati just stared at me.

Like I was absolutely bonkers or something.

Mutti said, "Georgia, what on earth are you doing to your eye?"

I told her that I am training it to open properly, as my darling sister has ruined it forever.

She of course classically immediately for no reason went all parenty and annoying.

And then she said, "Anyway, it is good to show a bit of weakness. You know how lads like to play hero."

Er, I know how LADS are, Mum, not the olds you know and love and are used to hanging about with. What I think you are referring to are senior citizens.

But I did not say that.

**11:00 a.m.**

Jas rang sounding all nice and concerned about me. But it did not take long for her to go into wild knicker mode, just going on about her and Tom and sparrows and then finally the party for this evening.

She said, "Are you ready for Dave's party? Remember it is at six o'clock."

And I said, "Dave who?"

For the very dim who have failed to notice, I have wiped Dave the Laugh from my memory and, ipso facto, from existence.

That will show him.

Jas, of course, got the megahump. She said, "Everyone has worked really hard on it, Georgia. Don't be immature."

Oh God.

**Midday**

Is Dave the Laugh really going?

I asked Jas that when we were chatting.

But she did not get my meaning.

She said, "What? What do you mean, of course he is going. I got him a false nose, you know, one of those that's got a mustache and glasses. Because he is such a laugh even if he is really immature."

I laughed a bit.

And Jas said, "Actually I was going to give him a really cool looking stone I found on a ramble that looked a bit like it had a face on it, sort of like one of those daft false noses, but Tom thought it would be a bit off so I have just got him the real false nose."

How beyond the Valley of the Really Quite Mad and entering the World of Certifiably Bonkers is that?

A rock??? Cheers, Dave, you have been a good mate. Here is a rock.

Honestly.

At least her boyfriend is normal.

**12:30 p.m.**

Dave the Laugh is really going. His plane is leaving really early tomorrow morning.

I have started crying in my bed. It is so pooey that he is going. I know I have not been the best mate but I am really going to miss him.

I know that I have been chasing after Sex Gods and Lurve Gods, but I have always been really pleased to see Dave the Laugh. It is sooo nice hanging round him.

And he really does give me jelloid knees.

It is not fair. Robbie and Masimo gave me jelloid knees and were tops at snogging and are really really fit. And Dave the Laugh was always my mate because even though he is tops at snogging and is very cool looking as well, he did not give me jelloid knees.

But that was when I was using him for my red herring.

**Two minutes later**

Blimey. Dave the Laugh has snuck onto ranks with Sex Gods and Luurve Gods.

When did that happen? Am I that dim?

The answer, my little pallies, is YES.

**Ten minutes later**

And what is more, Dave the Laugh is my mate. He gives me jelloid knickers in a sort of nice, familiar way.

And he said that we were supposed to be together. And that he loved me. Although he could have meant that in a mate-type way.

Yes, he meant it in a matey way.

**1:00 p.m.**

Gordy has come up onto my bed to comfort me. I nuzzled against him and he attacked my head and it took me ages to get my hair free of his little bonkers claws.

Have it your own way then, mad cat.

**One minute later**

I will never stop blubbing. Why, Baby Jesus???

Maybe Baby Jesus has known all along that Dave the Laugh would be leaving. He let us have a bit of fun but did not allow us to become a proper couple. Only unofficial and secret snogging partners.

Which, I suppose had been a bit of alright for _moi_.

**2:30 p.m.**

Oh God. I do not think I can go tonight. What will I even say to him?

Dave rang and said to me, "Greetings, Sex Kitty. This is, as you know, the saddest day of your life."

Oh, in the name of Merlin's undercrackers.

He said, "Shall we meet up in a bit? A couple of my mates and I are planning to wreak havoc round town soon, it would be lovely if you'd join."

What was I supposed to say??? Sven was going to hang around Dave and tell him that he'd forgotten he'd promised to meet Rosie and have them go round her house to "apologize." But really they would go for Dave's party.

I suppose I could just go with them rather than be there waiting.

I realized I'd been silent for a while when Dave said, "Don't worry, you gorgeous minx. We will have plenty of alone time for heavy snogging."

Cheeky cat.

Perhaps I could just ring the gang and let them know I would be with the lads and arrive with them.

But I just couldn't. I really did not want to meet up with Dave the Laugh for the last time.

I just couldn't do it.

I said, "Er…I dunno. I've got some…I'm a bit busy at the moment but I will give you a call later."

And Dave said, "Yes, but Gee, I will not be home to take your call. That is why I am calling you now."

"Er…"

"Shall I just ring you later when I'm near a phone?"

"Right, sure."

And I put the phone down before he even said goodbye.

I am some kind of horrid scorpion woman.

**One minute later**

I will just have to make it up to him when I see him later. Er, somehow.

**2:45 p.m.**

Blimey, time is getting on. I do not even have the motivation to beautify. I am still in my jimjams and everything.

No rollers for bounceability in, no cleansing, no toning, no orangutan gene inspection. I am just lolling around in bed. I am quite tired from my crap sleep last night.

Maybe I will just have a wee zizz, just to make sure I have got energy for the party. Just for a quarter of an hour, that is all…

No, no, there is no time. Dave the Laugh is arriving at six o'clock, which means that I have got to arrive by at least quarter to. And I have got to have a bath, cleanse, tone, moisturize, pick out an outfit, apply makeup. The list is endless really.

I will just have to get up and start right—Zzz…

**5:05 p.m.**

COR BLIMEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**-------- ------ --------**

**Author's Note: I am so pleased that people seem to be enjoying the fic. It is so much fun to write. I keep thinking I ought to space out the chappies a bit more to make it a bit more exciting, but I am a pushover and your reviews make me want to write more NOW haha. **

**The next chapter is on its way...I actually had a nice portion of it written but I must have saved something over it :o(**

**Anyway, the semester is really in full swing now and I am a bit busy, but I will update as soon as I can.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!! **


	9. Leaving Do Undone

**5:10 p.m.**

Went downstairs where Mum, Vati, and Libby (aka the Clinically Insane) were just getting in.

Vati said, "You are looking terrible, Georgia, what is wrong? That time of the month?" And he just went bearding off, laughing sort of maniacally.

I just looked at Mum and said, "Mum. Help."

**5:20 p.m.**

One thing that can be said about Mutti is that she is not terrible to have around during times of girly-type crises. I explained about having a really long kip when I was supposed to be getting ready for Dave the Laugh's party.

Mum is on outfit duty and is having a bit too much fun with it. "Oo-er Georgia, how about this skirt with just a simple halter? You have got rather lovely shoulders and a very grown-up chest."

Honestly, you know there is a problem when your Mutti is trying to make you look like an absolute slapper. You see what I am dealing with.

**5:40 p.m.**

Right then. Makeup applied. Hair styled. Clothes, er…worn. And I have got five minutes to be right on time for Dave the Laugh's party. If Mutti gives me a lift, the whole fandango will be cool as anything. With knobs. Excellent.

**5:41 p.m.**

Oh, and by the by, I do not want to go to Dave the Laugh's party.

**5:42 p.m.**

At all.

**5:43 p.m.**

Which is why I am still standing in my room rather than hopping into the car.

Mutti is at the bottom of the stairs going, "Come on, Georgia, stop dithering about, we have got you ready on time, what are you doing up there?" And some other such nonsense.

**5:44 p.m.**

Honestly, I can not go to Dave the Laugh's party. I really really can't do it.

**5:45 p.m.**

Heard the phone ring from downstairs and a moment later Mum yelled up, "Georgia, Rosie rang and said that Dave is due to arrive in fifteen minutes so you'd better hurry up. Why haven't you come down yet?"

**In bed**

**6:01 p.m.**

In my bed of pain with Angus and Gordy.

Blubbing.

I have ruined my mascara.

**Two minutes later**

**Still blubbing**

And, for the very dim who have not caught on yet, I am not going to Dave the Laugh's party. I just really really can't do it.

**6:07 p.m.**

Dave will have arrived a few minutes ago. I wonder if he has noticed that I am not there yet.

**6:30 p.m.**

Mum came up to my room and was patting my hair really sweetly and asked me down to watch one of Libby's daft videos before boboland time. Might as well, what else have I got to live for?

**6:32 p.m.**

The phone rang and I said to Mum, "If it is for me, say I am not in."

It was.

I just heard Mutti say, "Hello, Nicolson residence." (Why?) And then she said, "Oh hi, Jas dear. Er, no, no Georgia is not in. Where?" And she looked at me sort of panicking.

I just mouthed, "Say you don't know."

So naturally and totally predictably and completely in line with the crapnosity of life, Mum said, "Do you know, I think she is with Masimo."

I started waving my arms madly and Mum just said. "Hm? Oh yes, that's right, he is in Italy, isn't he? I'd forgotten. Well perhaps she has gone off and hopped a plane to Italy, ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha."

Bugger.

**6:38 p.m.**

In the end I had to take the phone from Mutti as she'd started to go really divvy and useless. Jas, of course, rang to give me a good telling off. Normally ol' swotty knicker's prattling doesn't put me off but I feel really horrible.

She said really angrily into the phone, "Georgia, you are being horrible. You should have seen Dave the Laugh's face when he realized you were not even here."

Oh sod.

**9:00 p.m.**

It is alright really. The night has actually turned out well enough. I've been watching some odd video that Bibbs fancies as a Boboland treat, and Mum's given me some jammy dodgers. I have barely even thought about Dave the Laugh.

Who is leaving in a few hours.

**9:10 p.m.**

Perhaps I will give my really dreamy boyfriend a call.

**9:12 p.m.**

He wasn't in. Typico.

**9:30 p.m.**

I wonder how the party is going. When Jas rang earlier, it sounded really loud and groovy on the other end. I could hear the Stiff Dylans doing a set.

Perhaps I should have gone?

The phone has not stopped ringing. I've told Mutti and Vati not to answer it, but they have got the hump about it now as Libby should be off to bed soon and it will disturb her.

Honestly, some people can be so self absorbed.

**9:45 p.m.**

Crikey. The olds finally decided to answer the phone. I gave Mum my worst look as she handed me the phone. She said, "It's for you, Georgia. It's Robbie."

Cor!!!!!

What could a Sex God want at this hour?

**10:00 p.m.**

Can the evening possibly get stranger?

NO, is the answer you are looking for.

Robbie and I did the usual hello, how are you nonsense, and then he said, "So, Gee…is there a reason that you are not here?"

I said, "Er…"

I heard Robbie sigh and then he said, "Look, Georgia. I know that you are really cut up about Dave leaving, but he is going in a bit and you ought to be here to see him off. He was really let down that you didn't come."

I said, "Er…"

But Robbie just went on, "I know it is hard as he is your good mate and he is going away, but this isn't fair on Dave. Just think about it a bit, Georgia. Don't do anything you'll regret tonight."

There was a bit of silence and then Robbie said, "I know you'll do the right thing."

And he put the phone down.

Like we were in a film or something.

**Two minutes later**

Oh, what will I do, what will I do?

I'll tell you what I will not do. I will not try to have a cuddle with Bibbsy while she is snoozing in my bed, which is what I tried to do a moment ago. My eyes are watering quite a lot after getting smashed in the nose.

**10:05 p.m.**

Blimey, this is aggers. And I do not mean my nose (which, now that you mention it, does hurt quite a bit.)

What do I do, Baby Jesus? Robbie has made me feel horrible. He was rifling a bit, to be fair.

He is right though.

**10:09 p.m.**

I wonder if Dave the Laugh will even have me now? I wonder if he will ask me to leave his party since I have been such a crap mate.

Yes, he will probably tell me to toss off.

Maybe I can go round to Rosie's but not see Dave, just write him a note and leave it for him.

**10:15 p.m.**

Nearly blubbing again. I was looking around for a bit of fresh paper and a pen and I found the card that Dave the Laugh gave me after I'd injured my ankle in P.E. It was when I was using him for a red herring.

It says, "_One-legged girls are a push-over. Love Dave xxxxxx._" And under it, another one that said, "_Merry one week anniversary, gorgeous. Lots of love, D, kiss, kiss, kiss._"

**10:17 p.m.**

Oh bugger it. I'll have to go.

**10:30 p.m.**

Dashing off to Rosie's!

Run, run, pant, pant.

**10:35 p.m.**

And double PANTS.

**10:41 p.m.**

There now. I am just sort of hovering near a window trying to see in. It is really loud in there. I can see a lot of people dancing. I think there must have been some over-eighteen activity, as there are some faint looking stragglers hanging about outside.

**One minute later**

Sacre bloody bleu! Was about to go in when the screen door went crashing open and Dave the Laugh stormed out. He could not see me right away as I was just off the path a bit, near the bushes. He sat on the steps just sort of staring off.

I felt a bit like fainting.

**Half a minute later**

Right, I have been standing here for about forty years. I will have to bite the whatsit.

I cleared my throat. "Dave?"

And his head just snapped sideways immediately.

And he just looked at me.

Right at me.

Into my eyes.

Blimey O'Reilly's trousers.

**11:00 p.m.**

Honestly, this is bloody aggers. When Dave saw me standing there he just stood up and kept looking at me. I said, "Hi."

Dave the Laugh laughed, but not in a Dave the Laugh sort of way. More in a Dave the unLaugh sort of way.

I am really in it now.

**Half a minute later**

What in the name of Saint Nick's undercrackers was I supposed to say? That I was sorry? Oh sure, manky idiot. I will have to just be honest. I will just have to tell me that I did not turn up at his leaving do because I am a cowardly, red-bottomed loon.

Dave was just standing waiting for me to say something. After a bit he just smiled in a really weird way and said, "Why, Georgia, how lovely you could come."

I didn't say anything. I just looked really uncomfortable and shuffled my feet a bit.

He said, "No, honestly. How really charmed I am. This is perfectly spiffing."

I said, "Dave," but he started talking before I could say anything else.

"I dunno though, Gee. Haven't you got a rather tight schedule? Lippy to buy, mates to ditch, handbag-toting blokes to shag…"

I said, "Dave," but he went on. "Oh but that's right, it's after eleven now. How early have pretty boys got to get to bed to guarantee adequate beauty rest?" He was being a bit spiteful now. And also, his really weird smile had faded and he looked quite hurt.

What in the name of arse was I to say?

**One minute later**

We were just standing there in silence. I couldn't look at him. I just heard his breathing start to go sort of heavy.

Blimey, it went on for ages. Finally, I said, "Dave," and he just cut me off again.

"D'you know, Gee…I know I muck around and I am always snogging you when we are supposed to have the Specific Horn for other people, but I thought we had a laugh together."

"Dave, I—"

"And I really really fancy you. That is why I take the mickey out of your manservants. But apart from me really liking you, a lot, I thought we were mates. And I am leaving tomorrow and we probably won't see each other for ages. Maybe never, if we are being honest."

I felt a horrible, big lump in my throat.

Dave stared really hard at me and went on, "This is my last night in Brighton, Georgia. Do you not realize that? I'm going and you have been off snogging photos of Masimo. I want to be your official snogging partner and also your mate, and you do not care to be either."

Oh blimey.

And also poo.

**One minute later**

I feel like absolute _merde._ I'd hurt Dave the Laugh's feelings.

It was probably the kindest telling off I have ever gotten, but it made me feel absolutely horrible. I do not think I have ever felt worse, actually. I could feel my throat getting all tight and my eyes burning.

After what felt like a really long time, it looked like Dave was just going to turn and walk off.

I sort of choked out, "Don't—don't go, Dave, I—"

But I didn't know what to say.

I told him that. I said, "I—I don't know what to say. I am really sorry. I just…I didn't…"

Oh blimey. I was blubbing. Really hot tears just started pouring down my face. And I was just prattling away like a loon about how I could not stand that he was leaving and that I did not come to his going away party because I did not know how to tell him goodbye.

What a sniveling fool. Dave just stood looking at me for a second and I felt like a prize idiot. But then he walked over and gave me a really big hug.

Open the floodgates.


	10. The Mourning Train

**11:05 p.m.**

Blubbing.

As usual.

**Two minutes later**

A moment after Dave hugged me he pulled away a bit and looked at me. He said, "It is not fair, Sex Kitty. You use me as your red herring, run around with some bloody homosexualist Italian, and don't turn up at my going away do, and I am hardly miffed. I will have to be a bit harder with you, kittykat—ooer!"

I gave him a really pathetic, watery smile. Dave the Laugh was even a laugh when his mates were CRAP to him. And when he was about to go to Lederhosen-a-gogo forever.

But then he went all serious again. And he said, "Do not worry about me leaving, Gee. I'll be alright, and anyway I will come back for visits. I'll bring presies. And you will have your Italian Stallion to look after you."

Oh blimey. My red bottom has gotten so out of hand that I sort of forget that I have got a boyfriend when I'm round Dave the Laugh.

I said, "Oh, yes well, I…erm…I don't know if—I mean to say…"

And Dave smiled a bit crookedly. He said, "What is it, Sex Kitty?"

I said I was not sure about Masimo or some bloody rubbish like that.

Dave was really smiling now.

**11:09 p.m.**

Honestly, I do not understand how my knickers let my enormously red fat bottom run away from them. Perhaps I ought to get some larger knickers.

**One minute later**

That is it!!! That is the secret to Jas's Specific Hornosity!!!! Really really huge knickers!

But then you have got to find someone really naff who fancies birds that run

round in their nan's undercrackers.

Er..no offense to Tom. He is a good lad and everything, I reckon he's the bee's knees but—

What am I on about? I was just telling you about Dave the Laugh…

Right then...

**Placing brain back in head**

After I made a huge red fool of myself telling Dave that I was not sure about Masimo, he said to me, really slowly, "Why? Fancy someone…ELSE?"

He said it in what I think he imagined to be a really innocent, offhand way. But it was not. It was sooooo naughty and obvious.

I just shrugged at him. Trying really really hard not to smile.

He raised his eyebrows.

I said, "Er…" and looked at him really pointedly.

And then Dave let out a little chuckle, put his arms round my waist and pulled me really tightly to him. It was vair vair lovely, and also I had a touch of the jelloid knickers.

He said, quite close to my ear, "It took you long enough, you mad kittykat."

I got really intense chills when he said it from his breath going all down my neck and round my ear.

Ohhhhh blimey.

**11:20 p.m.**

Eventually Dave and I went into Rosie's and everyone near the door just cheered when he came in. Barmy lot.

**Two minutes later**

Jas, Rosie, Jools, Mabs, Honor, and even Ellen practically attacked me when they saw me. They all started talking at once.

Jas said, "Blimey, it's about time!"

Jools said, "What happened between you and Dave?"

Ellen dithered, "Is he, you know, erm, angry with…?"

Rosie said, "Fancy a nuzzle against my beard?"

**11:50 p.m.**

The Ace Gang, Dave the Laugh and I have managed to squeeze in a really cracking time. But eventually the neighbors started coming round in turns to whinge about the noise. Everyone was all groaning about having to leave and it took Dave about forty years to say goodbye to everyone properly.

I was just dithering about with Jas and Rosie as Dave was hugging Ellen goodbye. She was practically snogging his ear whispering really fast into it. Dave looked sort of amused.

Hm…

**12:01 a.m.**

Ooooo-errrr. I was standing around waiting for Dave to tell me goodbye when he asked me to come round his house for a bit while he packs up the last of his things. I said, "Err…what about Emma?"

He looked over at her as she was craning her neck to look at us and then she tried really hard to look as though she hadn't been watching. Which she had been.

He said, "Don't worry Sex Kitty, I'll take care of it. Just hang about for a bit like you're going to help clean up or something, alright? Just come by for a bit, you can nip over to Jas's later and no one will be any the wiser."

Ohhhhh Dave the Laugh, you cad.

**Walking along to Dave's**

**12:10 a.m.**

Dave has gone mad. He is singing that bloody "Morning Train" song by that Easton tart. Really loudly. In the middle of the road. Just walking along doing linksie arms with me.

Honestly.

I said, "Oi, keep it down!"

And he said, "…HE TAKES ANOTHER HOME AGAIN, TO FIND ME WAITING FOR HIM…"

**12:20 a.m.**

Just sitting in Dave the Laugh's room. On his bed. At night. On his bed.

His bedroom is really really bare. Although there is crap just strewn all about the floor near his suitcases and boxes.

Dave the Laugh is, quite clearly, not a very good packer and also a bit on the untidy side.

My kind of bloke.

**12:30 p.m.**

When Dave started sorting his things he put some music on so I was just trying to look really into it. I felt a bit like a spaz just sitting there.

Eventually Dave fell over onto the floor really dramatically. As though he'd died from exhaustion. As though he'd built a city instead of thrown a few pairs of socks into a suitcase.

I laughed. What a sad prat I was.

**12:45 a.m.**

Dave and I have just been chatting. I luuuuurve our chats. He stayed all sprawled out on the floor and eventually I laid back onto his pillows. Just chatting.

He said, "I've got to ask kittykat. Why the sudden uncertainty about the Italian Stallion?"

I just stuttered for a bit like a fool and then said, "Well I, erm…you know…"

And Dave said, "Noo, I don't know, that is why I am asking."

­­­­­It was really quiet for a bit.

What was I supposed to say???

I sighed really loudly and I could feel my face going really really red. I was about half a step away from turning into Ellen.

I said, "What do you want me to say, Pantsmaster?"

And that is when he sat up and started doing pretend beard stroking. He leaned in toward the bed all smiling and looking really naughty.

He said, "Tell me you luuuurve me."

He is soooo annoying.

But I did not tell him that.

I said, "I luuuurve you."

"And that I am irresistible."

"You are irresistible."

"And that you want to shag me senseless."

I said, "You are bonkers."

But he just looked at me. Really sternly. And then he crossed his arms.

Just looking at me.

I would have to tell Dave the Laugh that he and his enormous pants had crossed the line.

Yes, that is what I was going to say.

I muttered, "And I want to shag you senseless."

Leave it.

**12:47 a.m.**

Dave the Laugh has crawled up onto the bed.

Ohhhhh blimey. What now???

**1:20 a.m.**

I will tell you what now. Dave has been snogging me senseless. For ages. It is, it has to be said, BRILLIANT. Not only have I got jelloid knees and jelloid knickers, but I feel a bit like I have gone completely jelloid. As if I have taken the form of one of Slim's chins.

It was strange because usually I wanted to play it really cool bananas whilst snogging a bloke, but I felt like I really wanted to tell Dave the Laugh that I was sort of melting.

I managed to detach my lips from him and I said, "I feel a bit like Slim's trembling jowls."

WHY???

I have dropped the clanger of the century.

But Dave just looked really dazed and muttered, "Eh? 'Choo'onabout?" and just kissed me again.

He did not even take the mickey or anything.

Dave the Laugh had gone jelloid as well!

Yummy scrumboes!!

**2:00 a.m.**

I have ruined everything.

In the middle of our snog, I started blubbing!!!

I have turned into Ellen with a touch of watery Emma!!!

Dave was really kind about it and actually he did not look very pleased either.

I cannot believe Dave the Laugh is going.

For the very daft who have failed to notice, I really really fancy him.

A LOT.

I said that to him. I told him thati really really like him and thati hate that he is going. Dave just kissed me over and over really fiercely and my brain dropped out.

**Friday, August 12****th**

**9:00 a.m.**

My life is over.

Dave the Laugh arrived in Germany an hour ago. He has probably already put on lederhosen. Right now he is probably saying "Hello there, kittykat" to some German tart with daft plaits on either side of her head.

Or as they say in Lederhosen-a-gogo Land, "Hallo, Kätzchenkatze."

**11:00 a.m.**

Jas rang. I told Mum to say I am not in. Jas has only phoned about a million times today. As if I have got the strength to speak.

**Noon **

Mum has spent all bloody day sitting on my bed, just patting my hair. Honestly, parents can be so annoying. She said, "Georgia, honestly, it is not that bad. I am sure your friend will visit, he has got to have some family here."

I said, "Go away."

From downstairs I heard Vati shouting nonsense. "Come now, Connie, she sounds like a bloody siren! Will you shut her up?"

Mutti said, "Georgia, how about some milky pops, love?" And she went downstairs really quickly and excitedly. She was down there for ages. I could hear her talking to Vati really quietly, and then giggling. They were probably snogging and playing tickly bears. AGAIN.

As I lay in my bed of pain and everything.

I hate my parents.

**12:15 p.m.**

I love my parents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mutti leapt up the stairs like a leaping thing and bounded into my room. And she did not have milky pops.

I said to her, "You have not brought milky pops."

And she said, "Yes, Georgia, but how would you like a trip to the Eternal City for a few days?"

I said, "What???"

And she said, "The Eternal City! Rome! Italy! Aren't you excited?"

Yes, yes, and thrice yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	11. The End

Hello lovely readers!

I regret(ish) to inform you that I will be retiring this fic. I am currently reading Stop in the Name of Pants and I will very likely start one when I finish and become deeply depressed that I won't have another one to read for however long.

Please stay tuned and ENJOY BOOK 9!!

) 


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